Forgiven
by emotional-static
Summary: A phone call forces Roger to face his demons regarding his family. Chapter 4 up, Feb. 1st.
1. News

**Forgiven**

Summary: A phone call regarding his family forces Roger to face his demons.

Mini A/N: I haven't written much of anything for RENT (or any other fandom) in almost a year besides the typical short or drabble, so forgive me if my writing seems a little shaky. Many of my other (and much older) RENT stories from two years ago can be found in my bio. This is set about four months after the end of the play/movie (Dec. 1990 + 4 months April 1991). Enjoy, reviews are appreciated.

* * *

_Late April 1991_

Mark hummed a little tune to himself as he jogged up the stairs of the subway station, careful to avoid the rush hour crowds as he headed in the direction of Alphabet City. It was Friday, the end of a long work week at Buzzline, and thankfully, he didn't have to be back in Alexi Darling's good graces until Tuesday because Monday, well, Monday was the whole reason why he was humming in the first place.

Somehow, in the middle of a forty hour work week, he had finished his second documentary, which chronicled the underprivileged Manhattan art and music programs in the public school systems and the importance of those programs in society today. It had been a labor of love, and now, after completing all of the edits, it was over. It had taken eight months, a drastically shorter time frame than _Today 4 U: Proof Positive_ had been, but with this film, Mark felt like he had accomplished more.

He had even arranged for a small screening of it at Tompkins Square Park for Monday evening, and had been passing out flyers left and right for weeks, and the hype had slowly been building up. Even Alexi was bringing a few of her benefactors to witness the screening, and secretly Mark hoped that somehow, just maybe, this could be the big break his was looking for all along.

Mark glanced around left and right, for once taking in everything he could without his camera, which was in the shop for minor repairs, and bounded down 11th and Avenue B, only pausing to take out his key and unlock the lobby of the decrepit apartment building he called home. He climbed the stairs quickly and yanked the sliding door shut behind him, looking for Roger, or anyone for that matter, to bestow his good mood upon.

To his slight disappointment, he found the loft empty; the only sign of life being the slight scent of Mimi's perfume in the air and new guitar strings of Roger's laid out on the makeshift coffee table.

Sighing, Mark took off his coat and tossed it on the couch before making his way over to the blinking answering machine on the kitchen table. He grabbed a pen and pad of paper just in case and hit the "play" button before rummaging through the fridge for something to hit.

_Beep._

"_Hey, it's Roger. Forgot to leave a note. Took Mimi to the Jersey Shore for the day, just to walk around. Be back sometime tonight. Later."_

Mark smiled. It was good to have Roger and Mimi back to normal, drug free, happy. He grabbed the orange juice and poured himself a glass.

_Beep._

"_Hey guys, Benny here. On vacation in the Bahamas for the week, so I'm pushing back the rent 'til the 3rd. Get it to me when you can, no rush. The plumber will be by to install a new water heater on Tuesday, and the new air conditioning unit will be delivered on Thursday, just to give you a heads up. Ciao."_

He chuckled to himself as he thought of how the past year's experiences had shaped Benny's character and how he had turned over a new leaf in the process. This was the old Benny that Mark had known in college; the Benny that had a heart coming back into the picture.

_Beep._

"_Mark, it's Mom! Just checking in on you. Don't let it be next Hanukkah before you call me, okay? Love you."_

_Beep._

"_This message is for a Mr. Cohen. The repairs on your camera have been completed and you can pick it up anytime tomorrow after twelve. Have a nice day."_

_Beep._

When there was no answer, Mark set down his orange juice and made his way towards the answering machine. His finger lingered over the "erase" button, but then:

"…_Fine, I'll call. I said I'd call. Give me the phone."_

There was a brief pause, and then the message continued:

" _Roger…hey, it's Jimmy. Hopefully this message gets to you in time…but this is the only number Mom had listed. Listen, uh, we're all here at the hospital. Mom's…she's not doing well. She had an aneurysm this morning. If you get this, call me back at the house at (914) 555-0809. Hope to hear from you."_

Mark gaped at the answering machine openmouthed. Instantly, he scrambled to hit the "rewind" key and grabbed his pad and pen to jot down the number. He stared at the number for a few moments, unsure of what to do. Should he get involved in what was very much a family matter and call Roger's brother back? Should he trust his hunch and drive all the way down to Seaside Heights in the hope that somehow he'd find Roger and Mimi on the boardwalk?

_Shit._

He paced around the kitchen for a few moments, clutching the piece of paper that held the number in his sweaty palms. Mrs. Davis had practically been a second mother to him when he and Roger had been growing up; she had been the typical soccer mom, always active in the community, always around, always caring. She practically had raised Roger and his four brothers and sisters single-handedly after she and Roger's father had gotten divorced, and still somehow she always managed to be so positive and upbeat. She was always eager to lend an ear when he needed advice, and Mark had never thanked her for that. Now he regretted it.

He even started mentally kicking himself for screening all of his own mother's calls for the past two years; only calling her back either when he got around to it or when it was Hanukkah or Passover.

_There was nothing to do now but wait for Roger to get home, and it was causing him to jump out of his own skin._

Pausing by the windows, Mark glanced out into the empty side streets absentmindedly, not even hearing the shrill ringing of the phone in the background. It broke him out of his trance, and he practically dove for it over the coffee table on the second ring.

"Hello?"

"_Roger?"_

Mark cradled the phone against his chin, hoping that the person on the other end **would** have been Roger, but the voice was very much female and somewhat anonymous to him.

"No, I'm sorry, this is his roommate Mark, can I take a message?"

"_Mark! Oh my god, I'm so glad it's you! We didn't know if this was still the right number, or if you guys still even lived there! This is Julie, Julie Davis. Is Roger there?"_

Mark paused. Julie Davis? The last time he had seen Roger's kid sister was when she had been a tag along, bratty twelve year old six years ago, the summer before he had left for Brown. He had almost even forgotten that any other member of the Davis family existed besides Mrs. Davis because she had been the only one to bother to make any contact with Roger over the years.

"Wow, I haven't…haven't seen you in years." _Great, the girl's mother could be dying and you're making small talk. _

_"Yeah…it's been a long time. Is uhm, Roger there, though?"_

Mark mentally smacked himself. "Oh, right. Sorry. No, he's actually out right now, but I'm expecting him back soon." There was an awkward pause, and then he added: "I'm so sorry to hear about your mom."

_"...Thank you. She's in surgery right now. We don't know anything, but the doctors…"_

He could have sworn he heard a sniffle in the background. "I'm sure everything will be alright in the end." _You idiot._

_"Maybe."_ Mark heard the beginnings of soft sobs break out over Julie's end and winced._ "…I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, but please, have Roger call as soon as he gets in. Jimmy's at the house. We need him up here with us."_

"Of course. As soon as he gets in I'll have him call. It might be awhile, but no matter what, I will have him call, I promise."

_"Thanks Mark."_

He hung up the phone and sighed, leaning back against the couch. He rested his head backand closed his eyes, still clutching the paper in his hand.

* * *

He must have dozed off, because the next thing he knew, he heard the sliding door creak open, and he bolted upright. _Please be Roger._

It was. He heard Mimi's laugh before he even saw her, and when they both crept in, he tried to greet them as cheerfully as he could.

"Hey," he started. "Did you guys have a good time?"

Roger grinned and only let go of Mimi's hand to take off his jacket. "I seriously forgot how much I love the shore. We had a great time."

Mimi nodded and ran her fingers through her dark brown curls. "I told Roger that when he gets rich and famous with his band that I want to own a house on the beach," she joked. "Did we miss anything good when we were gone?

Mark motioned to the kitchen. "Actually…"

Mimi smiled and sprawled out on the couch, kicking off her black cowboy boots. She reached for the television remote and began flipping through the limited channels, finally settling for a made-for-TV movie. "Did Maureen try to stage another ridiculous protest in support of the poor conditions that hot dog vendors work in?" She giggled slightly and motioned for Roger to join her on the couch.

Mark cracked a smile, remembering last month's Maureen-related fiasco. "No, nothing like that. It's uh, you probably should hear this. Actually, you need to hear this."

Puzzled, Roger stared at him from his position on the couch. "Need to hear what?"

He motioned towards the kitchen, and reluctantly, Roger got up to follow. Mimi looked over as well briefly, but was too enamored in her movie to pay attention.

Mark fast forwarded through the messages until he reached Jimmy's. "Just listen. You need to hear it."

* * *


	2. Sticks and Stones

A/N: Thank you all for the reviews, they really made all the difference. I wasn't too happy with this first chapter but lately I've been going through this phase where I have all these ideas and can't seem to get the motivation to continue anything, so the fact that I'm actually continuing this means a lot to me. Thank you all again.

I forgot the disclaimer for the last chapter … so here it is: All characters belong to Jonathan Larson. No profit is being made from this. All I really "own" are Roger's brothers, sisters, and whoever else you don't recognize from the play.

* * *

The answering machine waited patiently as Roger took a seat at the kitchen table, the message indicator flashing venomously. "Did anyone ever tell you," he questioned as he hit the playback button, "that you have the ability to scare the shit out of people?"

Mark rolled his eyes and sat down next to him ominously. "For once in your life, just shut up and listen."

The message played back as it had before, yet this time, Mark didn't pay much attention to it. He instead gauged Roger's reaction, which went from confused, to somewhat angry, to shocked in a matter of moments. When it ended, Mark gently pushed the paper Roger's way.

Mimi had gotten off the couch towards the end of the message and entered the kitchen area, resting her chin on Roger's shoulder. "I'm so sorry." She ran her fingers through the tips of his short, blonde hair and sighed before kissing his cheek lightly.

Roger nodded and began folding the paper into fours, and then, in turn, unfolded the paper to its original form. "I should call."

"Yeah," Mark agreed. "Julie called not too long after, but I spoke with her. She said the same as Jimmy did and that he'd be waiting at the house for your call I guess."

Mimi walked over to the kitchen and began pouring two glasses of soda. "How many brothers and sisters do you have, babe? I always knew you had them, I just never knew how many."

"Four," Roger answered out of his stupor. "Jimmy's the oldest. He has to be close to thirty by now. I know he got married a few years ago, but I never met his wife. And I'm assuming he's gotta have a kid or two.

Then there's Lindsay, who's a year older than me. She has a little girl too. She sent me a picture one time, after she was born. Then it's me, Joey, who's…god, in college. He's somewhere around twenty or twenty-one. And Julie's the baby. She's eighteen." He glanced down at the paper. Frustrated, her ran a hand through his hair. "I can't believe this shit, Mark. Just the other day I talked to my mom. She seemed happy and healthy…normal. And now this."

"Don't give up hope. Just call and borrow Joanne's car to get up there. Your family needs you, and it sucks that you don't know what could happen, but miracles do happen. They happen everyday."

"I know that. And I'm going up there, as soon as I talk to Jim. I want to be there for my mom like she's been there for me. I haven't seen any of them in years, man. Jimmy and I, we said some horrible shit to each other before I left for the city. We haven't been on good terms since. I don't know any of them anymore, and they don't know me. I don't want that shit to start up when I'm there. I just want to be there for my mom."

Mimi sat on his lap and began gently rubbing his back in small circles. "Then go be there for her. Don't let any of that stop you. Hopefully they can over look all the bad blood between you all and you can all be there for her, as a family. It doesn't matter whether or not they know you anymore. You never know, give them a chance and maybe you all can get close again."

"Meems is right. It might take time, but you're only going to have one set of family, Rog. Of course you have us, but I'm talking about blood family. Deep down, I'm sure you all still have a lot of love for each other left. You just have to take it with a grain of salt and see how things pan out."

"And if you want to do this on your own, we'd understand," Mimi pointed out. "I'd come with you in a heartbeat, but only if you want me to be there for you."

"So would I," Mark nodded. "And I'm sure Collins would too, if you ask him. But it's up to you."

That managed to put a small smile on Roger's face. "Thanks. But let me call my brother before I make that decision, see how much tension is between us and all." He reached for the phone, and Mimi jumped off of his lap.

"What do you say to a cup of coffee?" Mimi suggested, yawning as she headed back over to the couch.

Mark nodded as he saw Roger dialing. "Sounds good to me. But you're buying."

She laughed and grabbed their jackets, tossing Mark his. "You're dreaming, camera boy."

* * *

The Life Café was packed with the typical Friday crowd, but somehow Mark and Mimi managed to grab a small table near the bar. After a few minutes with their menus, they settled on cheeseburgers, with two coffees.

"I never knew Roger and his family didn't really get along. I mean…from as much as he told me, his rehab had been a tough subject for all of them, but I just assumed that everything was, I don't know…" She grabbed two sugar packets and poured them into her coffee.

Mark shrugged and did the same to his. "Things have always been rough with Roger and his family. Growing up, we lived across the street from each other. His mom and my mom were good friends and even went to the same book club. But things got pretty shitty fast once Roger's mom and dad divorced. They moved across town, and we didn't talk again until high school."

"By then, he was smoking, drinking, doing a little pot on the side. Got in trouble with the cops a couple of times. Gave his mom a hard time, plus she had four other kids to deal with. But who didn't give their mom a hard time then? His mom always pushed him to go to college and make something of himself, but he loved music. He wanted to move to the city and start a band, and after we graduated high school, he took off for New York."

She took another sip of her coffee and rested her chin on her hand. "So is that why he doesn't get along with his brother?"

"Sort of. He and Jimmy always had different ideas, different ways of handling things. Jimmy wanted to be a cop and he always had his head on straight. His was the oldest, so he felt that after his Dad left them he had to be the man of the house. He saw all the shit that Roger put his mom through and hated him for it. He said he was turning out like their dad. So the day that Roger left, they got into a huge fight. He didn't want to end up finding Roger dead on a street corner in ten years. He wanted to see Roger make something of himself, and he didn't see music as a real career for him. When Jimmy called today, that was the first time Roger heard from him in six or seven years."

"Wow," Mimi said. "Does he know about—"

"April? The drugs? Rehab." Mark nodded. "Yeah. It just gave him another reason to hate him. The rest of Roger's family never took any of this as hard as Jimmy did. And because of Jimmy, Roger won't go home to visit."

"That's terrible."

"Yeah." Their cheeseburgers had arrived, and Mark took a bite of his. "And now he's going back home for the first time in years to find his mom, who was basically his only supporter, sick. It's scaring the shit out of him."

Mimi thought about all of this for a minute while chewing on her burger. "So what about his dad? Has Roger heard from him?"

Mark shook his head. "Not really. He moved out to California years ago. Got remarried, I think. Hasn't kept in contact since. Doesn't even pay child support."

"What a scumbag," she hissed. "I never got it, you know, how a father could just abandon their kids."

"Yeah," Mark agreed. "Me either."

They chewed in silence, and Mimi twirled one of her curls around her finger. "Do you think his dad will come back with all of this going on? I think that's enough to throw the poor boy over the edge."

Mark shrugged again. "He hasn't come back in fifteen years. I don't see him coming back for this, either."

"Jesus, I don't really know what to say."

Luckily, someone squealed behind Mark and through her arms around him with a giggle. "Pookie! I haven't seen you in forever! Where the hell have you been?"

He rolled his eyes and Mimi covered her mouth with a snort. _Maureen._ "Hi, Maureen. Where's Jo?"

"Parking the car," she answered, flouncing over to Mimi and enveloping her in a hug. "Hiya, Meems."

"Hey Mo." She scooted over to allow enough room for Maureen to pull up an extra chair. "How've you been?"

"Good! I just got home from another audition and Joanne and I decided to catch an early dinner before stopping off at the loft anyway. Where's Roger?" She glanced around, as if he was hiding and she had missed him when she had walked in.

"Back at the loft," Mark answered. "He's—"

"Hey everyone." Joanne drew up a chair from an empty table and sat down next to Mark with a smile. Always the professional, she was dressed in a business suit and her classic Doc Martens. She grabbed a French fry off of Mimi's plate and popped it into her mouth. "Where's Roger?"

Mark sighed and rubbed his temples. "He's at the loft. He found out today that his mom's in the hospital."

"You're kidding," Joanne gasped. "Is she going to be all right?"

Mimi shrugged her shoulders. "She had an aneurysm this morning. When we left, Roger was about to call his brother back to find out more."

Maureen rested her head against Joanne's shoulder, who in turn wrapped her arm around Maureen's waist. "That's so sudden. I mean, one day someone could be here, and the next…gone."

Mark could have sworn he saw a tear fall out of Maureen's eye. He didn't even ask why they had all gotten so silent all of a sudden because he knew they were thinking about the same thing he was: Angel.

"If he needs to go back home, my car is his for the borrowing," Joanne offered. "Just say the word and I'll drop it off whenever he needs it, tonight even. We can always take the subway home."

"That would be great. He'll probably decide to head back either tonight or in the morning, either way."

"Does he need any of us to go with him?" Maureen piped up.

Mark shook his head in uncertainty. "You know how Roger deals with things. If he doesn't ask, you don't push it."

"Exactly," Mimi chimed in. "I told him I'd love to go with him, but I'm not sure what he feels right now. We'll probably know more when we get back."

"Yeah," he added. "We should probably head back now." He pulled a ten dollar bill out of his pocket and set it on the table. "You guys coming, or staying?"

Joanne shook her head. "I'm starved. I had three back to back meetings and haven't eaten anything all day. You guys go ahead. We'll be by within the hour. Give him our love."

"Please," Maureen added, giving Mimi a hug and reaching across the table to kiss Mark on the cheek.

"Will do." Mark pulled on his jacket and headed toward the exit with Mimi, his arm around her shoulders.

* * *

They didn't have to look far for Roger. Upon arriving at the loft and finding it empty, Mimi discovered that the door that led to the roof was cracked open. It took one glance at each other before they both took the metal stairs to the toptwo a time.

The found Roger near the opposite end. He was seated in an old, rusty lawn chair that Mark had stolen from his parents years ago, a cigarette in one hand and a beer in the other. He was hunched over slightly, as if he was about to be sick. Immediately, Mimi ran to him and crouched before him, taking his face in her hands.

"Roger, baby? Are you okay? What happened?"

Mark inched closer to the lawn chair, but hung back a few feet. "Did you call? What did you find out?"

Roger cleared his throat and nodded, his eyes first meeting Mimi's and then Mark's. "Yeah."

"How is she?" Mimi pushed. "Is she going to be okay?"

"She's dead," he spat bitterly, taking a swig of the beer. "She died this afternoon, in the operating room."

* * *


	3. Scarsdale, Six Years Later

A/N: Thanks to all for the reviews on the last chapter! I didn't even expect that many so I was really happy. Sorry for the delay on getting this part out, I've been super sick this week (strep twice in two weeks plus a terrible cold on top of it) so I haven't been feeling so hot and all I've really been doing is taking it easy. Plus, I had a little trouble getting the motivation to actually get this chapter out, since it was a tiny bit of a filler. Anyway, thanks for being so patient and enjoy.

* * *

Mimi watched Roger from the living room couch, cradling the phone against her ear. He would pack a little bit, pace around their room, pack a little bit more and then pace again. He had been doing it for the past fifteen minutes that she had spent on the phone with Joanne, and even Mark, who had just gotten back from getting Chinese food for dinner, looked frustrated with it.

"Yeah, thank you so much Jo. We'll throw down the key when you get here. Uh huh. Bye." Mimi rested her head in her hands briefly before hanging up the phone and hopping off the kitchen chair she had been sitting on. Briskly, she made her way over to Roger's room.

She knocked lightly before poking her head in. "Rog? You almost done, baby?"

He grunted something in response, which was inaudible, due to the fact that his head was in the closet and the radio was on. Mimi walked forward and wrapped her arms around herself, leaning up against the dresser and resting her head against the wall. She glanced down at her fingernails and began picking at the chipped red nail polish. "Did you hear me?"

"Yeah, I heard you. And yeah, I'm done. I packed what I needed for the week. I called Julie back, to let her know to expect me sometime tonight. Wake is Monday night and the funeral is Tuesday."

Solemnly, Mimi stepped forward and rested her hands on his arms. "It's okay to feel, Roger. To feel sad, to be angry, to hate the world today. And I'll understand if you take all this out on me, because you're hurting. But I'm hurting too. I'm hurting for you."

Roger stared at the ground and swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. "You don't get it. You never knew my mom, and I wish you could have met her. She was always the rock, and now's she's gone. It's hard to believe that someone you just talked to the other day is gone. I wish I could have done so many things differently. I wish I would have visited more, would have picked up her calls more, would have been a better son to her. And now I can't even apologize for all the shitty things I put her through. I didn't even get to say goodbye. The only one on my side now is Julie. You don't even know how hard it's going to be to go back and pretend everything's okay with my family. I'm gonna go up there and have to prove myself all over again to everyone."

"Maybe that's not such a bad thing." She shifted over and sat down on the bed. "You could show them that you're a better person now then you were back then. People change. Time heals all wounds, remember?"

"Yeah, right." He zipped the duffel bag shut and sat down next to her, pulling her into a hug. "I love you. I wish I could bring you up there with me today, but this is something I gotta deal with on my own. Did Joanne say if I could borrow her car?"

Mimi nodded. "Yeah. She'll be by in a few to drop it off."

"All right." He tossed the bag near the door and fell back against the bed, pulling Mimi down with him. "I'll come get you sometime Monday. You and Mark. I promise. We should all be somewhat civil towards each other by then."

"Okay," she nodded, linking her fingers around Roger's neck and pulling him into a kiss. "Maybe we should just take the train up instead. It doesn't make sense for you to drive all the way back down to get us. I'll take off from work Monday and Tuesday. It'll be fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," she insisted. "I'm twenty years old. You don't have to hold my hand all the time, remember?"

"Okay, smart ass," he smirked, rubbing his thumbs against her cheekbones. Content, he held her close, only to be interrupted by another knock at their bedroom door.

It was Mark. Grinning, he held out a container of Chinese food and gave them both the thumbs up sign. "Doyouwannahavesomedinner?" he mumbled together all in one chew before swallowing.

"In English?" Roger joked. "What did you order?"

"Lo-mein and egg rolls."

"My favorite!" Mimi perked up at this and hopped off of the bed. She made a grab at the container Mark was holding, but he held it above her head.

"No way. I haven't eaten since breakfast. There's two more on the kitchen table, get your own."

"Brat, weren't you ever taught to share?" she teased, heading out of the room, her curls bouncing against her blue tee-shirt.

Roger groaned before sitting up. "Mark, what the hell am I going to do?"

Mark lifted another forkful of lo-mein noodles into his mouth. "Don't take any shit."

"Great advice."

"No, I mean it though. You're not there to fight and bring up everything from the past. You're there for your mom and to preserve her memory." He sat down next to Roger. "Think of it this way. You never know until you try to make amends. It might be two steps forward and three steps back, but then again, it might not be so bad. They're your family. I'm sure, actually, I'm positive that they have some sort of love for you left. If not, they would have tried selling you to the gypsies when you were five years old."

Roger shook his head and managed a laugh. "That's cute, Mark. And if anything, Cindy would have tried harder to sell you off than any of my brothers or sisters combined."

"Yeah, well look at how Cindy and I are towards each other now. We're angels."

"Yeah, right."

* * *

By eight o'clock that evening, Roger was completely out of Manhattan and heading north on the Bronx River Parkway. He had to admit, it had taken a little practice to get used to driving again. It was hard to believe that it had been a year since he had driven to Santa Fe and back.

Driving didn't scare him in the least, but the fact that he was driving Joanne's brand new 1992 silver BMW was another matter. She had been lenient enough when she had swung by to drop the car off, allowing him to borrow it as long as he needed to, but was strict in letting him know that if anything was to happen to it, it was his head, and an angry Joanne was something not to cross paths with.

Still, his feelings of nervousness had dissipated by the time he got off the Parkway and onto the main roads of his old neighborhood. Scarsdale hadn't changed in the years since he had left. It was almost as if someone had freeze-framed the entire town, only to hit play as he drove through. Roger passed the park and the baseball diamonds; the fields where he had played soccer so many years ago in his youth. It was deja-vu all over again as he passed the high school and headed down the side streets that would lead him home. He could almost see himself and Mark walking home along the sidewalks; could almost feel all of the emotions that had been a part of growing up. And yet, as he turned down his own street, the memories faded and he was brought back to a sharp sense of reality. _This wasn't home, not anymore._

He was so caught up in his emotions that he almost passed his old house entirely. He slammed on the brakes and with a sharp squeal, the car stopped and Roger shoved it into reverse, backing up and parking it in front of the mailbox. He glanced over at the house and squinted at the bay window, almost positive that he had just seen the curtains flutter underneath the porch lights.

_Shit._ He was tempted at that moment to turn around and head back to the city, but stopped himself. He couldn't hide anymore. He couldn't ignore his family or the fact that his mom had died. Whether he liked it or not, he **needed** to be there for them, and if that meant physically forcing himself to have a civilized conversation with his brother and gritting his teeth at every uncomfortable moment, he would do it.

He made sure to lock Joanne's car as he headed up the driveway, avoiding a collision with his mother's old rosebush in the dark. It was four steps and one stride to the front door, and in a breath, he was there. He lifted his hand up to ring the doorbell, but there was no need. The front door opened slowly, and he was greeted by his youngest sister, Julie.

She said nothing as she heldthe screen door open for him. For a moment, the two stared at each other, taking in each other's appearances for the first time in six years. Roger even attempted to speak, but no words came out.

To Roger, it seemed that Julie had gone from a skinny, awkward pre-teen with braces and frizzy hair to a beautiful young woman overnight. She was still short and just as tiny as Mimi, and had filled out somewhat, yet was still thin. Her dark brown hair was curled into loose waves that fell to just beneath her shoulders, and at the present moment, she was twirling a piece of it around her manicured fingernails.

"Hey," he tried again, and this time, the words came out clear and heartfelt.

He was taken aback as suddenly, she jumped forward and threw her arms around him in a tight hug, and was even more shocked when she started to cry.

Restlessly, he rubbed her back. "Hey, it's okay. Shh. I'm here now, everything's going to be okay."

Julie pulled back and glanced up at him, her brown eyes already swollen and red-rimmed from a full day's crying over her mother. "I can't believe you're really here."

"Yeah, it's me. I promise. No imposters or anything," he joked.

She lightly punched him in the arm before hugging him again. "I missed you so much. I'm so glad you're home."

* * *

Review, I know it's short, but it's the best I could do without getting in over my head. The next chapter will be better, and longer, I promise. 


	4. Sorrow

**A/N:** You all are wonderful. Your reviews really inspire me to continue with this. As I said before, I'm not new to writing for RENT, but it has been awhile. You guys are great, thank you so much for the encouragement. With that said, this story will be moving along. I know I promised to get this part out sooner, but I've been having some problems writing it. I know exactly where I want this story to go, almost all the way to the end, but with my second college semester starting, it's been difficult to find the motivation to get this moving along. After the next chapter, things will be moving along at a faster pace. Thanks for being so patient.

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Julie hugged Roger again. "You have no idea how happy I am that you're here. It's been crazy. Everyone is driving me crazy, and you were always the sane one." She pulled a crumpled tissue out of her jean pocket and wiped her eyes with it. "God, I can't believe it's really you. You look so different."

Roger grinned, arm still wrapped around Julie's shoulders. "So do you, kiddo. You grew up."

She nodded at this and rested her head against his chest as he led her to the couch. "How are you?"

"How am I?" He handed her another fresh tissue from the box on the coffee table. "I'm more worried about you. How are _you_?"

Julie shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. One minute I'm bawling my eyes out, the next I'm angry at Jimmy, the next it's as if it hasn't even hit me that Mom's gone. And I think that's what scares me the most. All day I've been expecting her to just walk in the door, or call. When I saw her at the hospital I couldn't even believe it was her. She was fine this morning when I left for school."

"Had she been feeling sick or anything?"

"No. All she really complained about what that she had a migraine, because she's been getting them a lot lately, but the doctor said it was just from stress at work. I got called down to the counseling office around ten, and Jimmy and Lindsay were there waiting for me. All we knew was that Mom had collapsed at work and she was at the hospital. When we got there, the doctors were trying to get her heart beating again and took her up to surgery. They told us she had an aneurysm and half an hour into surgery, her heart stopped and…" Julie stopped and stared at the carpet. "That was it. They tried to get her back, but they couldn't."

Roger nodded, a lump forming in his throat. "You're home by yourself? Where is everyone else?"

"Jimmy's at the airport picking up Joey. Lindsay went to go pick up Marissa from a friend's."

"And they left you by yourself?" He was angered by this; if it would have been him, he would have made sure that Julie hadn't been left home by herself.

"It was okay, really. I fell asleep anyway and I wanted to be here when you got here. They should be back in a little while." She wiped at her eyes again and sighed, resting her head on Roger's shoulder. "I don't want to talk about this anymore."

"Okay, we won't. Pick a new topic. Anything you want," Roger reassured her.

"Tell me what you've been up to for the last couple of years."

It was an easy question, for anybody else. But for Roger, it was incredibly complicated. How could he honestly tell his little sister what **really **had gone on with him over the years without upsetting her even more? _Drugs. Music. April. Suicide. "We've got AIDS". Withdrawal. Rehab. Mark. Mimi. Collins. Angel. Santa Fe. "Your Eyes…". _He sighed. For now, he'd have to stick with the short, filtered version of his life. He'd have to lie to protect her until eventually he could bring himself to tell her, but that day wasn't today and he wasn't sure when it would be.

"I've uh, been around," he began. "Mark got a place in the East Village after he dropped out of Brown. A couple of our friends lived their at first, but they eventually moved out and got places of their own. Right now it's just me, him, and my girlfriend Mimi. We're working on getting the place fixed up right now. It was pretty run down when Mark first got it and in a lot of ways it still is. But it's cheap and we've got a roof over our heads so I can't complain too much. Other than that I've been working on some music with my old band and working part time as a bartender." _There it was, a lie. Short but sweet._

"You've got a girlfriend?" Julie pressed, as if it was hard to believe.

Roger laughed at her reaction. "Am I that hideous that I can't get a girl?" he teased her. "I'm glad you have such high standards set for me."

"Oh no, I'm sorry! I didn't mean it like that," she apologized quickly, resting her head back against the couch pillows. "It's just that…it's been a long time. I'm trying to catch up."

"It's cool," he reassured her. "Yeah, we've been together for about a year and a half. She's going to be twenty-one in June. She's going back to school, to teach dance."

"Do you have a picture of her?"

Roger paused for a moment and dug out his wallet out of his back pocket. "Actually, yeah. Here." He handed the black and white Polaroid that he had forgotten he had even had to Julie. "That was taken last year."He remembered this picture well. It had been taken after they had all caused such an uproar at the Life Café; when he had finally allowed himself to show his feelings towards Mimi. They had been nestled at a back table, Mimi's head on his shoulder, his arm wrapped around her body.

"She's gorgeous. Is she Spanish?"

"Half Cuban, half Italian. She's actually going to come up for the wake and funeral with Mark."

Julie nodded, handing back the picture to Roger. "How is Mark?"

"Mark's, well, Mark. His longtime girlfriend left him for another woman and I don't think he's really recovered since. I mean, he dates, but he never really lets himself get too attached. I wish he'd settle down with someone though. I feel bad sometimes, that I have Mimj and he doesn't really have anyone on the same level. But he's still filming. His first documentary won a couple of awards, and the one he just finished now is having a screening this Monday."

"That's good. I see his sister sometimes at the supermarket." She paused and glanced towards the window, but when she came back to face him, Roger saw tears in her eyes. In a second she crumbled and they began streaming down her face as she struggled to grab the tissue box on the coffee table.

"Jules," Roger soothed, pulling her into his arms. "I promise you, everything is gonna work out. Who knows, maybe you'll even end up living with me? I mean, you graduate in a little over a month right? My door's always open."

"I miss Mom so much. She was always there for me when nobody else was. I haven't even see Dad in two years. Last year he didn't even send me a birthday card. But it was always Mom who put in all the time to make sure I was okay. Did she tell you that I got accepted to NYU on a scholarship? I just don't know what I want to do anymore. I don't even care if I graduate. I don't care, because she's not here. When she died, I stopped caring. I'm so angry. I'm so mad at everyone. Nobody gets it."

"Would it make you feel better if I said I'd try to "get it"?

"Yeah. No. I don't know."

Roger sighed in frustration, as he heard the front door open. Turning around to face the entryway, he came face to face with his older brother, the source of all his frustration; the epitome of the reason why he hadn't been home in years.

Jimmy's eyes moved over Roger's appearance briefly, and he gave him a curt nod. "Roger."

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End file.
